


The Power of a Word

by EradiKate



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Feelings Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 00:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17735441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EradiKate/pseuds/EradiKate
Summary: Zevran doesn't know what to make of Amell, even as he enjoys her company.





	The Power of a Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NilesDaughter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NilesDaughter/gifts).



_ Amor. _

 

Zevran is passing familiar with the word.  He knows it has many faces and many forms, but some are truer than others.  Over the years, he has learned to mimic the signs, whether to draw a mark close or to earn a few extra coins doesn’t really matter to him.  It’s always been a means to an end.

 

He’s used to the trappings of it.  Small gifts, sweet words, caresses all come naturally to him.  As far south as Ferelden, he knows that his accent and considerable innate skill combine to make him deadly.  He uses it to full advantage, and if it gains him some passing pleasure who is he to complain?

 

But this is different.  This mage, sheltered as she may have been, doesn’t flutter at his compliments.  She returns his gifts in kind. A small ring of silver here, a handsome pair of gloves there.  She takes him to her tent, though she knows he was sent to kill her. She sees something in him, he can tell by the softness in her eyes.  Zevran doesn’t think too long on it.

 

He can’t allow it.  He tells himself that this is the infatuation that only lasts a short while, and that she will soon realize that Alistair, royal bastard though he is, will be a far better match for her.  Despite this, Zevran clings to the idea. When they lie together, he is certain to leave marks that claim her as his own. She doesn’t once complain; indeed, she leaves traces of herself on him.

 

Regardless, he has nearly convinced himself.  But she says the word to him–in his own tongue, no less–and the fantasy splits open.  

 

Zevran, the whore’s son, the assassin, the seducer, is in love.


End file.
